


Parallel

by azure7539



Series: Azure's 007 Fest 2019 [2]
Category: James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 007 Fest, 007 Fest 2019, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 03:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure7539/pseuds/azure7539
Summary: What could've been, and what did happen.





	Parallel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linorien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/gifts).



_(The one where they didn’t crash)_

They lie tangled in the blankets, the soft sound of rushing waves just beyond the window panes, and the Ode that perfumed her skin is a gentle whisper against his nose as it nestled in the depths of his lungs. 

The bells of her fine hair soft under his chin, Bond can feel the exact second in which she wakes up, the supple muscles in her back tensing before relaxing once more to burrow back closer into him. Like she loves the warmth that he has.

Like she feels safe with him.

He stays quiet for a long while after that to give her some proper time to bask in the lingering pull of sleep before pressing a kiss to her cheek, a gentle thing that it is, and smiling into her skin.

“Oh, James,” she sighs, all contentedness and no wariness, as she shifts in his arms.

“Happy honeymoon, Tracy,” he whispers as though it’s a kept secret between them. As though it may break if he says it too loudly.

“Happy honeymoon, love.” And she turns to kiss him as well, on the lips this time, slow with an underlying sensual urgency.

She is all he can see. Life is good.

* * *

_(And the one where they did)_

Every year, Bond disappeared without a word for around one week. 

There was never any specific time (because Bond knew better than to indulge in that human need to be a creature of habit). But at the same time, he only ever went to one single place—a casino in the Royale near the warm and beautiful beach that he had first been to a very, very long time ago.

Over the years, the casino had lost none of its old splendour, the shadows of the guests it housed reflecting on the well-polished floor as the staff busied themselves with the most cordial assistance to every patron.

And so Bond parked. Got the room key. Went to the casino. And played poker, the glittering lights like disjointed flashes in the corners of his eyes.

Then, at the end of the evening, he would sit down at a small table, lit a cigarette, and ordered champagne. 

There were always two glasses.

**Author's Note:**

> **(Fluff & angst prompt tables: _[blankets]_ \+ _[grief]_ )**


End file.
